He didn’t say that lightly. Taking a life was serious business. They all had, of course. Nobody could be in their business and not, but they usually reserved blood and death for heated battles, not the way that Marik was describing killing—and a woman too.
Renall blew out an exasperated breath. “Where’s Jeval?”
“Here.” Jeval appeared. “Just finished helping total up the take. Minus the cut for the crew and those bastards on Hylion, we still come out flush. Not bad for a little work.”
“We need to fast gas a woman that was on the ship,” Renall said.
Jeval groaned. “You know we don’t kill hostages unless they’re a danger.”
“She has low rot,” Marik said.
Jeval recoiled. Then he said, “That makes it different then, doesn’t it? Will it be painless for her?”
Marik nodded. “Fast too. I’ll make sure.”
Jeval asked, “Are we all in agreement?”
They were. That brought Jessica into play. Again, they all agreed she might be useful, and that the odds of her being a Capo spy were low enough to keep her onboard and not fast gas and jettison her along with the other woman.
Renall explained the situation with Clara and, as he did, her face swam up into his mind’s eye. Desire hardened his body. Ire came with it. The last thing he needed was an attraction to a human. Humans were untrustworthy and fickle. They had the temperament of children and lived far too short lives for them to ever be romantic life partners.
Besides, they had all agreed to marry the daughters of the ruler of the planet not far from the one they were eyeing. They needed alliances, and that meant that Clara Waters, the alluring human, had to stay out of his bed, and head. Not that he was considering bedding her. He needed her cooperation more than he needed sexual encounters in his life.
